


For the Cause

by BlueMinuet



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, 弱虫ペダル | Yowamushi Pedal
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Character Death, some pairings implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Kinjou is quite rigorous in making sure his officers are the best they can be. Sometimes his doctor and science officer debate a little about his methods, though. </p>
<p>Star Trek AU where Makishima is the Science Officer, Kinjou is the Captain and Tadokoro is the Chief Medical Officer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Cause

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeannamarin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannamarin/gifts).



> This was originally prompted as kintadomaki, but since that’s a little vague in here I didn’t tag it as such. Oops. There’s a bit of buildup before this gets to the actual prompt, but… eh.
> 
> You can see the original SASO posting [here](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/4403.html?thread=1130035#cmt1130035).

Another console bursts to Imaizumi’s right, filling his nose with the smell of acrid electrical burn. He allows himself to cough, but pushes the rest out of his mind. “Full power to shields!” he barks.

“Shields are at less than ten percent,” Sugimoto shouts. “It’s no use! Auxiliary power is gone!”

Imaizumi pounds the comm button on the captain’s chair. “Bridge to engineering! We need more power. Chief Kanzaki, we need—” Another volley from the enemy ship rocks the ship and the comm line spits static. “Chief Kanzaki? Miki!” 

“We took a direct hit to engineering,” Tadokoro bellows from a station just behind Imaizumi. “The whole section is flooded with radiation.” 

“More enemy ships on an intercept course,” Makishima says, calm beyond reason. “Heading 119-mark-335.” 

Imaizumi grimaces. “Onoda, get us out of here, Warp Five!”

“I can’t,” Onoda shouts over the crackling of failing systems. “Engines have lost power after the last hit.”

“Sir,” Makishima calls Imaizumi’s attention. “The auxiliary power reserves are still intact, just disconnected. Someone could reroute it. But it would need to be done in Engineering.”

“The comm is down,” Sugimoto points out. “We can’t get word to anyone down there.” 

The phrase “if they’re still alive” hangs unsaid, but everyone hears it anyway.

“We’d have to send someone,” Makishima says.

“Are you crazy?” Tadokoro shouts. “The radiation in that section... Someone might have time to do it, but they won’t come out alive.” 

“Imaizumi…”

Imaizumi’s blood runs cold when he hears Ensign Onoda speak up. “No,” he says before the ensign can say another word.

Onoda bolts up from his chair and spins to face Imaizumi. “Sir..."

“Sit down, Ensign,” Imaizumi snaps. 

“Imaizumi…” This time it's a whisper, so low he can barely hear it under the hissing of venting coolant. He’s begging. He’s literally begging to…

“In your seat, Sakamichi,” Imaizumi says, his voice so low that he almost misses it himself. Onoda nods, quickly, but his eyes don’t agree with his actions. “Plot a course,” Imaizumi orders him. “Full impulse. Heading 345-mark-274.”

“Aye, Sir.” 

“Impulse won’t get us far,” Sugimoto points out. 

“It’ll be enough,” Imaizumi says. He leans onto the fore-console, between Sugimoto and Onoda. “Onoda, try to–” 

“The next wave of ships is in firing range,” Makishima interrupts. “Phasers firing.” 

Imaizumi tries to speak again, but the words are ripped from his mouth as the next volley of fire hits the ship. Tadokoro is listing off damaged systems, but it’s all lost in the pounding of Imaizumi’s ears. He takes a step back to brace himself in the captain’s chair, and not a second too soon as Sugimoto’s half of the console explodes. 

“Tadokoro,” Imaizumi shouts, pulling Sugimoto away from the smoking console. Tadokoro rushes to respond, checking over the ensign. Imaizumi takes his place at navigation, looking over what readouts aren’t still smoking. By some miracle, Onoda is still at his post, still functioning but he looks about as good as any given part of the bridge. 

Tadokoro says something, but Imaizumi can't hear it. Makishima's console is the next to go up in flames, and the senior officer dives away. 

Imaizumi darts for the comm button, even though he knows there’s only half a chance anyone on the ship will hear it. “All hands, abandon ship! All hands—” 

The sirens stop abruptly, as does the smoke. The lights come up on the bridge replacing the former gloom. Tadokoro and Makishima stand up as if nothing ever happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Imaizumi catches the fallen form of Sugimoto blink out of existence, and just manages to glance over at Onoda before he does as well. 

A door slides open in front of the main screen—a door that wasn't there a moment ago. Captain Kinjou walks through, stern yet unfazed. 

Imaizumi stands, a bit less snappy than normal. “Captain.” 

“Lieutenant,” Kinjou replies. “Abandon ship?” 

Imaizumi says nothing to defend himself. 

“I left you in charge of the ship for twenty minutes,” Kinjou says, walking through the simulated bridge. “Seems you… could have done better?” 

“I had a plan,” Imaizumi says. “If—” 

Kinjou cuts him off. “Yes, I heard you telling the helmsmen to set a course,” he says. “It’s a shame you didn’t have the power nor the time to pull it off.” 

Tadokoro and Makishima share a look, but Imaizumi hardly notices. 

“We’ll let you know how you did, Lieutenant,” Kinjou says. “Rest for now.” 

“Aye, sir. Thank you, sir.”  
“I think he did pretty good,” Tadokoro says, brushing through Kinjou’s doorway. 

Makishima laughs, without much force. “He destroyed the ship, Tadokorocchi.” Makishima settles down at Kinjou’s desk while Tadokoro flops onto the captain’s bed. 

Kinjou walks in and the door snaps shut behind him. He stares out the window at the stars, preferring to let the two other officers hammer it out before he weighs in. 

“So?” Tadokoro says. “Aren’t half these command officer tests no-win situations anyway?” 

“Not this one,” Makishima says. “Or weren’t you paying attention? I thought you made the solution a bit too obvious to be honest, Kinjou.” 

“I didn’t program in a solution,” Kinjou says. “I just set the scenario. The fact that a solution presented itself was just chance.” 

Makishima laughs. “Chance, he says. It doesn’t matter if you programmed it. You had to know it would happen.” 

Tadokoro shudders. “Call it whatever you want. That fake Onoda gave me the creeps though.” 

“I remember when you used to say the same about the real one,” Makishima says. 

Tadokoro looks away at that. “I’d hope the real one wouldn’t be so willing to throw himself into the fire like that.” 

“On the contrary,” Kinjou says. “The simulated crewmen are based on all the computer’s information on them. Their service record, personal logs. I think the computer boasts an accuracy of 98%, last I checked.” 

“We just got it up to 98.8% at the last testing,” Makishima pipes in. 

“Well, that just makes it worse,” Tadokoro says. “Remind me never to end up in a war zone with Ensign Onoda, or he’ll end up throwing himself on the nearest grenade.” 

“And you wouldn’t?” Makishima says. They’re smiling, but Tadokoro knows it isn’t genuine. “Don’t have any of that ‘for the cause’ fire left from the academy days?” 

“That’s different,” Tadokoro protests. 

“It isn’t,” Kinjou speaks up. “All officers must be willing to do what it takes to ensure the safety of the ship and crew.”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” Tadokoro says, sitting up. “Yeah, sure. Starfleet is dangerous and we have to prepare for the worst, blah blah blah. But don’t tell me you actually expected Imaizumi to go through with sending Onoda to die.” 

Kinjou raises an eyebrow. “You realize it wasn’t really Onoda, right?” 

Tadokoro huffs. “Now you’re splitting hairs.” 

“Ensign Onoda had high marks in his Engineering courses in the academy,” Kinjou said. “Imaizumi knew that. He was the obvious choice.” 

Tadokoro frowns. “But…”

“But who could send Onoda to death? Of all people, not Imaizumi,” Makishima says. “You’re probably right, Tadokorocchi. It probably was unfair. But that’s command for you.” 

“Well, remind me never to take the Bridge Command test,” Tadokoro says. “I’m shaken up enough just having sat in on one.” 

“You did agree to do it,” Kinjou reminds him. 

“I agreed to sit in on a test,” Tadokoro says. “Not to sit in on watching a kid being forced to make the decision to murder his friend. They were in the Academy together, for God’s sake.” 

“If I had to guess, I’d have to say they’ve been in a lot of things together,” Makishima says wryly. 

Tadokoro glares at them. “Maybe the two of you can be so flippant about this when you’re in the command seat, but remember that I’m the one that has to stitch up these gung-ho cadets after you send them to get all banged up for honor and glory.”

“They’re not cadets anymore,” Kinjou says. “And that’s the point. Imaizumi has much more potential that needs to be tapped. And he can’t do it unless he’s pushed.” 

Tadokoro’s eyes widen before he belts out a laugh. “So, that’s what this is about.”

Kinjou says nothing. 

Makishima looks up at him. “Wait, what?” 

“Potential,” Tadokoro repeats. “They pulled out the admiral seat for you again, didn’t they?” 

Kinjou stays silent, but it’s all the answer necessary. 

“So, how many times does this make?” Makishima asks. 

“Not quite enough, apparently,” Kinjou says. 

“Good riddance,” Tadokoro says. “They stick you behind a desk and you lose all perspective. You don’t want that.” 

“Tadokorocchi,” Makishima says. “Don’t be foolish. He’ll sit in it eventually. That’s how it works. Someday, Kinjou will be an admiral. I’ll have my own science vessel. And maybe someday, you’ll even climb the ranks all the way up to lieutenant commander.” 

Tadokoro makes a rude gesture. 

“That’s life,” Makishima continues, unperturbed. “And someday, Imaizumi will be sitting in that captain’s chair. Onoda will lead the science division. And that little medic of yours, Naruko, will be their chief of medicine. And God have mercy on that crew.” 

“And the circle of life goes on and on,” Tadokoro shoots back, mockingly. “I get it.” 

“Do you, though?” Makishima asks. “Because if Imaizumi is going to sit in that chair, we need to know he can make the tough choices. Because sooner or later, every captain has to send an Ensign Onoda to his death so the other 300 members of their crew can go on to be captains and scientists and doctors. It’s not just the circle of life. It’s the life of Starfleet. Some die, some go on to die later.”

“And we all sing _Ex Astris, Scientia_ , and don’t mention that knowledge we gain from the stars sometimes comes from a lucky few being thrown into them as sacrifice,” Tadokoro grumbles. 

“Metaphorically, maybe,” Makishima says. “But what’s the alternative? We all stay at home with our feet on terra firma and die of old age with our heads in the sand? It’s cliche, but it’s true: this is what we all agreed to when we signed up. Doubly so for the unfortunate among us on the command track.”

Tadokoro grumbles, defeated but unwilling to accept it, and heaves himself up to dig around in the drawers of Kinjou’s bedside table. He produces a bottle of Andorian Ale, one he stashed there himself, and waves it somewhat menacingly at Makishima. “In that case, I’ll drink to never being a captain.” 

Kinjou looks over at him. “Pour me a glass then,” he says with a smirk. 

Tadokoro wastes no time doing so, already knowing where the glasses are. “So tell me then, Kinjou. If this is all business as usual for you, which one of us did you kill during your Command test?”

Kinjou takes the glass from Tadokoro with a smile. “Makishima. I knew they wouldn’t take it personally.”  
Imaizumi stands before the holodeck door with his back straight and his shoulders high. It’s all a farce, and Kinjou knows it. But he also knows faking it is an equally important part of command. 

“You failed,” Kinjou says, and the words seem to slap Imaizumi in the face. “But that’s not the end. Put it behind you.”

Imaizumi nods sharply. “Yes, sir.” 

“The situation will be different this time,” Kinjou says. “But don’t count on it being too different.”

The pause is longer this time as Imaizumi digests what he’s being told. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good,” Kinjou says. “Now, if you’re ready, Commander Makishima and Lieutenant Tadokoro are already in the holodeck waiting for you.”

“Yes, sir. I’m read—” 

“Imaizumi!” 

Both Imaizumi and Kinjou turn to look down the hall as Ensign Onoda runs up. He comes to an abrupt stop in front of them, barely stopping his impressive momentum in time. He rolls back onto his heels before nodding to both of them quickly. “Sorry to interrupt, Captain. Lieutenant Imaizumi! I… I just wanted to wish you good luck on your second try. I know junior officers can’t watch the test so… Just do your best! I know you can do it!”

Imaizumi goes pale, though his expression is holding together surprisingly neutral. “I… Thank you, Onoda—Ensign Onoda.” He adds the last part quickly, the formality almost forgotten. 

Onoda smiles at him. “Let me know when you’re done. I’ll meet you in the rec room and you can tell me all about it.” 

Imaizumi barely has time to nod and thank him again before he’s off. Kinjou places a hand on Imaizumi’s shoulder, and the younger officer nearly jumps out of his skin at the shock. 

“Are you sure you’re prepared?” Kinjou asks. 

“Yes, sir. I… I’ll do my best,” Imaizumi promises. 

Kinjou nods. “I look forward to it.”

The lieutenant composes himself quickly. He strides through the door where Makishima and Tadokoro are waiting for him, as well as newly generated images of Sugimoto and Onoda. 

“We’re getting a distress signal from a merchant vessel,” Makishima tells him. “Their engines are malfunctioning and they’ve drifted into the neutral zone.” 

Imaizumi nods, and takes his place on the captain’s chair. “Ensign Onoda, plot an intercept course. Warp three. We’ll be crossing the border, so keep an eye out.” 

“Course plotted, sir,” the simulated Onoda says. “On your mark.” 

There’s barely a pause, where Imaizumi is staring at the back of the ensign, before he looks back at Kinjou and nods. “Engage.”

**Author's Note:**

> Endnotes for Star Trek dorks: The presence of holodecks detailed to this degree pushes the date of this piece past the time frame of _The Original Series_. High end vessels had rec rooms with limited holographic capabilities as early as 2270 ( _TAS_ ), but fully functional holodecks were not a common component of long-range vessels until the 2300s ( _TNG_ ). However, the full functionality of this holodeck is left vague; it could be that only two officers are simulated because this is the maximum capacity of this holodeck.
> 
> I imagine this piece taking place somewhere around 2290, before the signing of the Khitomer Accords, meaning that the cold war with the Klingons was still mostly in full swing, lending to the darker outlook of the officers here, and explaining the Bridge Command test bearing similarities to the Kobayashi Maru. Also, this means everyone is wearing velour.


End file.
